Devolution
by Xrross
Summary: Cold. Broken. Beaten. Just barely escaping death, Adam is left wounded and alone. The only thing he has left to give his life meaning is his promise: to destroy everything Blake loves. And so he sets out off to Atlas to tear apart an innocent girl's life, ignoring the possibility that he might do the same to himself before he even gets there... (T for violence and swearing)
1. Cold

Cold.

Adam had never felt more cold in his life.

The icy water filling his lungs made him feel like he was going to freeze.

He probably couldn't breathe, but truth be told, Adam wasn't even trying. He just let the water flow around him, in him, uncaring, indifferent…

Cold.

Suddenly, Adam's head hit something hard. He'd been moving at a snail's pace, so it's not like he was doing any more damage. Even so, the suddenness of the action made him inhale slightly in surprise, sending the water (that had previously been slowly flowing down his throat) rushing down his windpipe like it was being vacuumed.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. Adam immediately began to writhe around, the instinct to survive reawakened, driving him to make his way to the surface. It was a long shot, sure. Frankly, the fact that he was even conscious was absurd. Any second now, his strength would leave him, his wounds taking their toll and dragging him down to the bottom. Or maybe it would be the cold that would take him down, seeping into his bones and freezing him before he could even take a breath. Either way, he was probably only delaying the inevitable. He was done for. He was already dead. He was-

He broke through.

The sensation of air flowing into his mouth and down his windpipe was almost orgasmic as Adam's head rose from the water, taking in a massive gulp of air. However, the ecstasy was soon replaced by the horrible feeling of water starting to push itself out of his lungs. Flailing his arms around wildly, Adam's hand slapped a low-hanging edge. With strength he didn't know he still had, Adam dragged his heavy, wet, wounded body up and over, eventually managing to flop face down on a hard yet welcome rock floor, at which point the man promptly began vomiting out blood and water, barely giving him space to breath.

Eventually, Adam's body decided he wasn't in imminent danger of drowning, and stopped regurgitating fluids. Groaning and soaked to the bone, Adam rolled over onto his side and clenched his stomach, palming the two stab wounds there. The icy water he'd spent the past few minutes submerged nearly killed him, but in a sense had also saved his life; the cold had slowed the speed of bleeding and numbed his senses, allowing him to largely ignore the pain.

For a time, Adam just lay there, his heavy, quivering agonal gasps gradually achieving a steady rhythm, deepening and slowing down. The oxygen washing over his brain, Adam forced his eyes open and tilted his neck, ignoring the dull throbbing in the back of his neck. He was in a surprisingly well-lit cave that hit a dead end a few meters from where he was lying, through he could see a pathway leading further down off to the side. The sound of rushing water told him that he wasn't that far from the waterfall. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if the waterfall was the only thing preventing the cave from being seen from the cliff, which would explain why it was so easy to see. Yes, he had to be near the waterfall.

The waterfall…

The cliff…

His sword…

Yang…

Blake…

Blake.

**Blake.**

"AHH! Shit….!" Adam groaned, the pain rearing its head as he turned back onto his front and began forcing himself to stand up. Now that he was becoming more aware, the pain in his stomach and head were only getting worse. It took every ounce of his will not to just collapse onto the floor and sob. Grinding his teeth, he transferred his weight to his feet and rose up. He felt like he was going to throw up his insides, but he was standing. He could still walk.

Taking long, deep, shaky breaths, Adam looked down at his side. Surprisingly, Blush was still clipped to his belt, and seemed to still be in working condition, at a first glance at least. Hopeful, Adam looked around the surrounding area, but couldn't see Wilt anywhere. He shook his head. He'd be unable to use his semblance in a controlled manner, but as long as he could find a sword of similar style and quality, then it should be fine. Even so, the prospect of having to part with one of his most prized possessions was… irritating, to say the least.

Exhaling, Adam took his first, tremulous steps forward. Each time he lifted a foot he felt like he would fall over, but he was soon able to establish an uncertain sense of balance. Swimming was out of the question, so he began making his way over to the path leading away from the area. He had no idea where it led. Hell, it might not even go anywhere. But Adam pushed such thoughts from his mind. It would lead somewhere. It HAD to. After all…

… he still had a promise to keep.

_**Cold**_

A/N

Let me just end this little intro with a few things. One, as you might have noticed, I've retconned Episode 12 a bit so that Adam got stabbed in the stomach instead of the chest. It's still enough to cause major injury, but it does make his survival a bit more likely.

Two, this is simply a "what-if" scenario exploring what might happen if Adam survived. I'm NOT writing this because I'm pissed about how Adam was handled and am trying to one-up RT because I think I can write a better story than them. Although I certainly did like Adam as a character and was sad to see his role in the story end, I'm still satisfied with how he was handled (mostly) and think his descent into obsession and madness is among the more interesting character arcs in the show. Again, I'm not writing this because I'm frustrated with his "wasted potential", I just think this would be an interesting concept to explore.

So yeah.

Follow fav and review if you're interested.

A/N


	2. Cry

It hurt.

_**So much.**_

Adam was still soaked to the bone with freezing water, but his movements were slowly increasing his body temperature, which was good. On the other hand, it also meant his blood was circulating at a faster pace, which meant the further he went the worse his bleeding got.

Which was very bad.

Thankfully, Adam had ripped the sash that hung from his belt into thinner ribbons and tied them around his stomach. It wouldn't do much, but it would stave off a death from blood loss, at least for an additional hour or so. He'd also done the best he could to dress the wounds, applying antiseptics and using the minuscule amount of thread he had on him to close them. He'd even used a painkiller to help keep the growing agony at bay.

A cold sneer grew on Adam's face. People always wondered why he had so many zippers on his uniform. Apparently, they'd even made fun of them behind his back. Well, who's laughing now? He was alive and well thanks to his precautions, and they were lying dead on a floor.

"Ha….. aha….. ahahaha… hahaha… hahahahACK!"

Adam's weak chuckling soon gave way to violent coughs, forcing him to bend over, covering his mouth in a vain attempt to stop. Eventually, the fit passed, and Adam removed his hand, disturbed by the amount of blood his glove was now covered in. Grimacing at the iron taste in his mouth, Adam promptly resumed his limp forward. It was fine. All he had to do was survive long enough for his aura to recover. Once that happened, his survival was basically assured. Then all that was left to do was find a replacement for Wilt and…

And…

And…

"Bla… Blake…"

Blake. He'd find her. Her and that disgusting, yellow parasite as well. He'd find them, and kill them both. So much for protecting each other. Ideally, he'd kill Yang first while making Blake watch, just to make her feel that little bit worse. On the other hand, it might be more ironic for the traitor to be denied the honor of being killed last.

Of course, he'd need to find them first. Assuming they'd already left, he'd probably find them in Atlas. Once he was there, he could mobilize the White Fang remnants that were stationed there to organise a search of the city. Well, assuming they didn't know about the incident at Haven Academy. But even then, he'd probably be able to rally the lower classes into doing something. Anything that would either allow him to search for Blake or draw her out.

It was around the time that Adam began wondering how he would actually get to Atlas that he noticed he'd stopped walking. In fact, he was currently lying facedown on the floor. Furrowing his brow slightly, Adam lifted his upper body and looked over his shoulder, and was surprised to see a trail of blood extending behind him. Looking down at his stomach confirmed that his wounds had reopened and were once again leaking blood, the red liquid seeping through his sash.

_Damn…_

Turning back onto his front, Adam started to push himself up, only for a sudden spike of pain to stab him in the gut. With a cry, he fell back down, his nose smashing against the floor, prompting another involuntary sob as it began bleeding.

Already sensing what was coming, Adam began rapidly blinking, trying to hold it back, but it was too late. The branding had rendered the tear ducts in his left eye useless, so instead, all he'd feel was a sharp stinging sensation. It was so much worse in many ways, if for no other reason that it did nothing but remind him of his loss, of his subjection, his humiliation.

"Fuck… fuck…."

Finally, Adam snapped. Flipping onto his back, the man began screaming curses as loud as he could, straining his vocal cords as he spat out every expletive he could think of. He wasn't even sure if he was directing them at anyone in particular, or just desperately trying to vent in some way. Tears were streaming down his right side in an unending river as his howls began subsiding in favour of raspy, demented laughter. Cackling madly, Adam roughly palmed his left eye, as if began attempting to force a reaction other than pain out of it. Unfortunately, the only reaction his body gave him was a vile, sinking feeling in his gut. Looking down, Adam was once again reminded of the fact that he had two holes in his stomach; the sight only served to make him laugh harder as he began thrashing around aimlessly like he was having a seizure.

Eventually, Adam's laughs devolved into strained giggles, his grin spread thin and wide across his face. By now, the entire bottom half of his jacket was covered in blood, and his body temperature was rapidly dropping. His spasms had stopped, and now he just lay twitching, staring up at the rock ceiling. He felt lighter than ever, yet he seemed to be sinking into the floor, the tunnel roof getting further away with every passing second. At least the pain seemed to have stopped.

Sighing, Adam let his head roll to the side, no longer possessing the will to even keep his neck straight. Maybe if he stopped moving entirely, he'd finally be able to get some rest. Granted, he was somewhat curious about the person kneeling in front of his face, but he could deal with that when he woke up.

Letting out one last breath, Adam closed his eyes, and let himself sink into his mind.

_**Cry**_


	3. Submission

"It happened again….. didn't it?"

Adam stared blankly at her in response. It wasn't like there was any point in denying it. The blood splattered across his coat was undeniable proof. Somewhat unsettled by his silence, Blake spoke again.

"I thought you said you'd try and stop killing so many. Look at you! How is this-!?"

"I've already told you," Adam interrupted, his voice slow and deliberate, like he was talking to a child who couldn't understand a simple concept. "This. Is. War. And in war, people die. I know you don't like it, but it's-"

"That's besides the point!" Blake shouted, stepping forward confidently, before immediately shrinking back upon seeing Adam's lips twitch. She hesitantly turned back towards the forest, preferring to look at the warm, autumn canopy as opposed to his cold, unsympathetic mask.

"I've… I've seen you on your missions," Blake carried on, slowly walking further to the edge of the roof. "Self-defense or killing when necessary is one thing. But you don't…" She came to a stop just before the roof ended, taking a deep breath.

"You go too far. At this point I think you're going out of your way to kill humans. It's never about the mission anymore. It's just about killing. And I… I don't think I can-"

Blake stopped talking, and let out a small gasp when Adam's arms suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her back against his chest. Almost instinctively, Blake began struggling.

"A-Adam! This isn't the-!"

"I'm sorry."

Blake stopped.

"I get it. I get where you're coming from." His voice was deeper now, more deliberate, softer, and despite her best efforts Blake could already feel herself melting into his embrace. "I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable… _Blake_." The cat faunus' ears twitched at the sound of her name.

"It's just that whenever I see them… I get so angry. All I can think about is what they did to me. What they did to all of us. To your parents. And then all I can see red," Adam continued, taking note of the way Blake flinched at the mention of her parents. He held her tighter, almost whispering in her ear at this point.

"This is what we're doing here. To exact justice for what's been done to people like me. Someone has to pay. I know you don't just want the criminals who beat me, broke me… to just run free and unpunished."

"I…" Blake's voice came out, much softer and weaker as she craned her neck to look up at him. "I just don't want to see you make that face anymore… it scares me…"

Adam pulled away from her, and Blake let out an involuntary whimper at the sudden cold, only to the warmth to return once Adam grabbed her hand and began running his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he went on. "But this is something I need to do for our people. For myself. For you." He brought her hand up to his face and lightly brushed his lips against it. Blake's cheeks flared up as he pulled her closer.

"Can you just bear with me? Please?" Adam asked, tilting his head slightly.

"I… I…" Blake stuttered, her face red before finally caving in and rushing forward, burying her face in Adam's chest. "I-I… I'm sorry…"

Adam smiled as he rubbed softly rubbed her back.

"It's okay."

* * *

_And you got to me_

_When you state your love_

_But you run away_

_What could you be on?_

_Now you're not around_

_But I hope you see_

_Gotta be full-on_

_It is up to me_

_That's all I got_

Letting out a small groan, Adam slowly opened his eyes. It took a little while before his vision cleared up, revealing a brown, flat ceiling. For what felt like an eternity, Adam stared upwards, his mind a blank and his eyes heavily lidded. When, seemingly without him knowing, his head turned to the right, and for the first time he noticed that he was resting on a bed. Furrowing his brow, Adam began looking around.

Like the ceiling, the walls (or at least the one he was looking at) were brown, though the floor was a stained marble. Standing a few meters away was a big maroon armchair with a black circular table missing one leg next to it. There was an open set of doors leading to a balcony, letting the wind blow in, which was probably why his upper body felt so cold. Looking down, Adam was surprised to see that he was shirtless, and even more surprised to see that his stomach was wrapped in white, clean bandages.

_Wish I could think of better ways_

_'Cause I lost my patience yesterday_

_If you could see inside of me_

_There'd be no heart on my X-ray_

_Opponents tryna checkmate_

_But I don't see no escape_

At this point, Adam began paying attention to the song he could hear coming from his left. It was quiet, and the quality was somewhat tinny, but he could pick out a very pronounced bassline and an _extremely _scratchy guitar underneath some high-pitched, fast rapping. His nose wrinkled. Not really the type of music he'd ideally want to wake up to.

Turning his neck in the direction of the music, Adam almost jumped when he noticed a person slouching in a chair less than a meter away from him. It was a young woman, around his age, maybe slightly older, with dark skin and short, curly black hair that clearly hadn't seen a comb in years. She was dressed in a plain, stained white T-shirt and beige cargo shorts. She looked like she'd just come out of a washing machine, then dried in a hurricane. Her head was tilted backwards, her gaze firmly planted on the ceiling as her foot tapped in tune to the bass coming from a tiny, old fashioned radio sitting on a small chest of drawers next to the bed.

Adam just stared as the women continued to look at the ceiling, apparently unaware that he was awake. Eventually, the song on the radio finished, and the room became silent, filled only by the pair's steady breathing.

_Don't try to hide away_

"Turn… it off…"

Adam barely had enough time to marvel at how horse his voice was before his attention has snatched by the woman who, upon hearing his voice, let out an ear-piercing screech, scrambled to sit up, and somehow slid out of the chair and onto the floor. Adam tried to sit up to get a better look, only for a sudden pain to flare in his stomach, causing him to let out a stifled cry as he fell back onto the bed. Seemingly in response to this, the woman scrambled to her feet, quickly slapping on a shaky, yet confident smile that showed far too much teeth for Adam's liking.

"Uhhh, hey there…. Guy!" she said, clearly uncomfortable not knowing his name. "How are ya? Doing good? I uhhh, patched up ya wounds for ya! Did an alright job! I umm, I hope, heh heh… You're not bleeding out, eh?"

Adam blinked.

The woman coughed awkwardly, before standing straighter and placing her hands on her hips. "Ahem. I'm Sepia Winterbloom! I was working in the caves when I found ya. You were in pretty bad shape," she continued, glancing at his waist, before returning her gaze to his face. "So! Got a na-?" she began, only for Adam to hold up a shaky arm to silence her.

"Oh! What is it?" she asked. Adam held his arm still for a few seconds, before pointing at the still-playing radio.

"Turn it off…"

_**Submission**_

* * *

Lyrics and title are taken from the song _Submission_ by Gorilliaz.


	4. Envy

More scars.

Frowning, Adam gently felt one of the fresh, sewn-up lacerations, feeling the rough, coarse texture under his fingers, uncomfortably contrasted by the lean muscle underneath. He grimaced.

"Hey! Don't just poke at it!" Sepia scolded, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair, coming dangerously close to falling again as she kicked her feet up on the table. Letting out a half-hearted "Mmm", Adam did as instructed, moving his hand from his bare torso to the mug he was drinking out of. Some herbal remedy said to help stimulate one's immune system. It tasted awful, but given the high likelihood that he'd contracted some horrible disease during his swim, he wasn't about to refuse it.

"So, you ready to explain what happened?" Sepia asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Looking up, Adam glared at her, which she returned with an obnoxious grin. Seeing his hostility clearly wasn't affecting her, he sighed.

"I'm a huntsman," he said. "Just moved in a few days ago. The military base called and asked me for help, said that a bunch of terrorists had sabotaged the relay tower. I ambushed them, but was beaten and left for dead in the caves." Sepia let out a whistle in response.

"Jeez, sounds intense. Suppose that explains all the commotion going on in the city. Where does the Grimm fit in though?"

Adam blinked, slightly confused.

"Grimm?"

"Yeah, apparently a big ass leviathan showed up with a bunch of other nasties. Took the entire force to take 'em out. Was on my way to find out more when I stumbled across you." She gave a little wink. "Guess luck's on your side, Cain!"

Adam's lips pulled into a tight line across his face, staring into the murky green liquid in his mug. "Yeah… 'luck'..." He looked back up at Sepia.

"Why are you out here anyway? Seems kinda risky to be living out in the woods." Sepia grinned in response.

"Aww, don't you worry your cute little head!" she said, ignoring Adam's scowl. "I may not look it, but I'm quite the fighter. I can handle any silly thing that tries to have its way with me! Besides, the air in the big city isn't for me. All those trams and tech and people is just…. Brrrrr!" she shivered. "I've always preferred the simple life!"

Adam stared deadpan in the face of her antics, but, looking around the kitchen, he could tell she was being truthful. Nearly everything from the furniture to the utensils was made of wood, and the most advanced piece of technology after the radio was the furnace in the living room. By modern standards, it was most certainly primitive, but had a rustic charm to it. Peeking at Sepia and her broad shoulders, he determined she must have built most of it herself in isolation.

_I suppose a life like this would have its appeal…_

Her shunning of technology likely also explained why she had no idea who he was. Given all the pictures of him out there, you'd think any reasonable person would pull a gun on any red-haired bull Faunus, but she seemed to have no idea who he was, treating him like she would any other person.

"Anyway Cain, think we should go about getting you back! Now that your aura's kicked in, you should be back to fighting form in a few days!" She said, getting to her feet. "Though, I'd recommend that you take it easy for a few weeks, so ya don't interrupt the healing process!" Adam nodded, downing the rest of the medicine and standing up.

"Yeah, I probably should head back," he agreed, walking over to Sepia with a slight limp. Concerned, she went to help him, but he held up his hand, giving her a weary grin. "Thanks for saving me, I really owe you one."

Sepia chuckled, her smile returning. "Ahh heck, I was happy to help. Couldn't just leave someone there to bleed out. I'm just happy to… huh?"

She trailed off as Adam suddenly placed a hand on her cheek, his touch as soft as his smile.

"I'm grateful," he said, rubbing his thumb along the side of her face. "I mean it." Sepia nervously swallowed, a blush beginning to take root on her face.

"O-Oh please… anything for a fellow-" was as far as she got before Adam, in one swift motion, slammed her head against the corner of the table. A dull, ugly cracking noise ripped through the tranquil atmosphere as Sepia's aura shattered, the woman herself crumpling to the floor, unconscious.

Adam stared down at the motionless body for an extended period of time, an unreadable expression on his face, before turning and walking out the kitchen. A few seconds later, he returned holding Blush. Taking aim, he pulled the trigger, turning his head slightly as Sepia Winterbloom's head was blown apart, coating the floor and table leg in with blood and shards of bones. Lowering the rifle, Adam continued to stare at the corpse, his pupil the size of a pinprick as he looked down his nose at it.

"Disgusting…" he muttered, stepping over the body towards the stairs. Arriving in the bedroom, he looked around until he spied his jacket and shirt hanging off the rail hanging off the balcony. Grabbing them, he was surprised to see that Sepia had apparently sewn the holes shut in both of them. He held his shirt, looking at the stitches quite unsure as to what emotion he should be feeling. Frowning, he ignored them and got dressed, finding his shoes at the foot of the bed and stealing a pair of socks from Sepia's bedroom.

Finally fully clothed, Adam stepped out into the woods, grimacing at the sudden chill, especially compared to the warmth of the house as it went up in flames behind him. Rubbing his hands together, he broke into a light jog towards Argus, carefully not to push himself too hard. This was just the start of a long journey, and he'd need his strength for the next step.

_**Envy**_


	5. Sacrifice

"Hmm, looks like things have finally calmed down 'round here…"

With a sigh of relief, Pesci turned back into the ally, pulling up his fur collar to brave the night chill. Black wasn't his colour, but the jacket got the job done; helping him to blend into Argus' night, hiding in its bowels alongside his mentor.

"How are things looking out there?"

Speak of the devil.

"Glad you're safe too, Garcia…" Pesci grumbled, before letting out a yelp as Garcia nonchalantly stamped on his foot as he walked past.

"I take it your attitude means things have settled down," the older man said, scratching at his grimy stubble. With his slightly oversized, dusty brown suit and dirty, roughly cut hair, he came across as significantly more shambolic than Pesci, yet the way he walked, the way he stood and held himself belied an underlying confidence and power. And that was without mentioning the tachi clipped to his waist, the blade giving him an additional air of elegance that his better dressed, but less experienced partner lacked.

"Ugh… let's go, I've got classes tomorrow and I can't miss anymore," Pesci complained, limping behind him. Garcia shrugged in response.

"That depends on Azulon. The bastard can be real stingy with his prices, negotiations might take a little while." A small smile graced his lips as his hand came to rest on the handle of his tachi. "Still, he's a sensible man, and sensible men are easily convinced."

"You're wrong..."

Garcia felt a familiar pain strike his back a split-second before he heard the bang of a rife and the crackling of his aura flaring up in defence. Before he could even stumble forward, he heard a second shot, accompanied by the slap of flesh against concrete. Quickly turning, his blade drawn, Garcia grimaced as he looked upon the body of his protégé bleeding out on the floor. Having never been an active fighter, the boy had never learnt to keep his aura raised, and it looked like that lack of experience had killed him.

A few meters behind the corpse stood a young man dressed in a black, almost militaristic uniform, a hood drawn over his head which obscured the finer details of his features, though Garcia could still pick out the soft, almost lazy grin on his face as he aimed the still-smoking barrel back at him.

"A sensible man can be convinced… _but not as easy as a weak one…_"

* * *

The sound of knocking startled Azulon, the saw he'd been polishing slipping out of his grasp. For a dreadful moment it bounced around near his feet, but quickly settled a fair distance from his feet. Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned and glared at the door to his small operating theatre. It must be Garcia and Pesci to ask for another 'favour'. Maybe if he was lucky they'd actually pay him half of what they promised him this time.

Still, it was odd. Nero should have called him the moment they walked through the door. Maybe he missed it? He was one to get caught up in his maintenance. But he couldn't help it! The satisfaction of cleaning and sharpening his tools to absolute perfection was extremely cathartic. It was almost a shame that he had to get them blood-soaked again, especially since he didn't really need-

Another knock.

"C-Coming, coming!" he said, pulling his surgical gown closer to his body and pulling his mask down to his neck, exposing his surprisingly boyish features, though this did clash somewhat with his uncomfortably pale skin and scraggly cyan wisps of hair poking out of his chin. Adjusting his cap slightly, he walked over to the door and finally pulled it open.

"SorRYAGGHHHH…..!"

Before he could even get a word out, a gloved hand reached out, grabbed him by the throat, and hurled him to the floor. Azulon felt his aura flickering as he hit the ground with a surprising amount of force.

"Fuah! HEY! What the fu… uuhh…." he began to say as he sat up, but one look at his assailant caused the rest of his sentence to die in his throat.

"I've met a few friends of yours, Azulon," Adam said as he walked in, kicking the door shut behind him as he entered, wiping his bloodsoaked gloves on his tunic. "They say you're quite the everyman."

"I-I… ughhh…." Azulon spluttered, crawling backwards until his back bumped into the wall, his eyes flickering between Adam's horns, his branding, and Blush. "I'm… probably wrong but… you're not Adam Taurus… right?"

Adam sneered, reaching into his back pocket. Azulon froze up, watching his hand with a feverous fear, his terror only subsiding slightly when Adam pulled out a small, brown wallet and tossed it at his feet.

"That belonged to Pesci Arancione. The Arancione Construction Foundation was heavily involved with the development of Argus. I'm sure his bank account has plenty of blood in it, let alone Lien. It should be more than enough."

"Uhh…." Azulon's eyes flickered up and down from the wallet to Adam himself, unsure if this was some kind of trap. In the end, his avarice won him over, and he dived for the wallet, opening it as his jaw dropped, the mere sight of the bank card making him drool.

"U-Ummm… yes yes! This will be fine!" Azulon nodded, rubbing his fingers over the leather in a manner that made even Adam a bit uncomfortable.

_Shouldn't be surprised. Money is such a human vice._

"Now… your job…"

"Huh? O-Oh yes yes, of course!" Azulon said, panicking as Adam took a step forward, hurridly shoving the wallet into his back pocket. "U-Umm, what would you like?"

"Three things. I want an appropriate sword for my rifle," Adam began, gesturing to Blush. "I want a fake huntsman licence. And finally, a complete disguise."

"Huh, okay. A bit much but I gu-"

"Starting with these," Adam interrupted, pointing to his horns.

"I see. I imagine you want to hide them?"

"Cut them off."

Azulon stuttered slightly. "You… want to cut them off?"

"What did I just say?" Adam scowled, taking another step forward, his hand drifting closer to Blush.

"D-Don't worry, I got it! It's just that… well, it's your Faunus… thing… so I just assumed-" Azulon started, but the thunderous look on Adam's face gave him the impression that he should probably stop. "Ahem, what else?"

"Blond hair and a beard," Adam growled, finally turning away from the terrified surgeon and walking towards the operating table in the room's centre.

"Right. As for the weapons and the licence, I'll get in touch with my…" he trailed off seeing Adam lie down on the table. "Oh… you want to do it now… okay..." Letting out a weak, terrified chuckle, he limped over to the rack and began picking out tools.

Adam stared up at the bright light fixed above him. It was concerningly dim for a surgeon's light, but at least he wasn't undergoing anything intensive, just sawing off a part of his identity. Nothing too serious.

His lips tightened. He'd hastily come up with this plan on his way to the clinic but was only now actually thinking about it. He was going to cut off his horns, and they weren't going to grow back. Ever. He'd be deformed the rest of his life, the symbol of his proud heritage reduced to mere stumps if he was lucky. Was it worth sacrificing a part of himself for this?

He scowled. What was he thinking? Of course it was! His horns were just a symbol for what was inside. Even without them, he still had Faunus blood flowing through his veins. As long as he had that, it didn't matter what he did to himself. Besides, it was all for a good cause…

_That's right. All of this is for her. All of this will be worth it in the end. I'll give up anything, anything at all to make things right._

_She'll get what's coming. And it's gonna hurt._

_**Sacrifice**_


	6. Emasculation

Cain Albuson was born in Mistral. Having been abandoned by his parents as a baby, he was raised in the slums of the capital by a gang of thieves. After spending much of his early life surviving by looting and thieving, he eventually grew weary of the criminal life, turning in the gang that had raised him in favour of joining a combat school at age thirteen. After several years of training, he joined Haven Academy, eventually graduating and spending the next few years travelling across the continent, living off the rewards he earned by helping the locals of whatever area he happened to be in.

After the Fall of Beacon, he returned to Mistral at the request of the council to help defend the city as instability threatened to cause complete social collapse. During that time, he became Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart's aide and confidant, joining him, as well as Qrow Branwen, Team RWBY and Team JNPR in defending the school from the White Fang, as well as another, unknown faction. Afterwards, he left Mistral to join RWBY, JNPR and Qrow on their journey to Atlas, but was separated when the train taking them to Argus as attacked by Grimm. Lost in the subsequent snowstorm, he took refuge in an abandoned mining town, before eventually finding his way to Argus, only to find out that the rest of the group had left him behind.

_But wait, why would they abandon one of their companions in the snow, without searching or even waiting for them? Would they have mentioned it to the military? Besides, RWBY was only a day behind others. I would have easily caught up with them before they left._

After the Battle of Haven, Cain stayed behind to ensure the suppression of the White Fang remnants and the safety of the kingdom. Once he was certain Mistral was safe, he departed with the aim of following the group's footsteps to lend him their aid, planning to find and meet them in Atlas when he arrived.

Adam thought about the alteration for a few seconds more, before deciding it made a reasonable sense and committed it to memory. His new backstory now established, he rose from the bed, flinching as a sudden yet familiar pain stabbed him in the gut. He had to get moving. Shrugging off the pain, he approached the mirror that was fixed on the door.

Staring back at him was almost a complete stranger, and had he not known he was looking at a mirror, it might have taken him a few seconds to realise that it was in fact him. Adam's hair and eyebrows had been bleached, turning them from a darker auburn to a shocking, near-white blond. His eye was now a pale crimson, which, combined with his hair, gave him a somewhat albino appearance. The other eye and surrounding scar were covered by a large black eyepatch, which extended down to his cheekbone and had an image of a bird wing etched into it with ice dust, causing it to glow softly. Lowering his gaze, Adam ran his fingers across his face, feeling his new beard. Although if he was honest, it was more of a chin strap with a conjoined moustache than a full beard, but then again he never had been particularly good at growing facial hair.

He lowered his hand further, his digits grazing his throat. His voice had been the one physical trait he couldn't change without risking permanent damage. Although he had spoken at multiple rallies, none of them had been recorded, and any holographic messages he had sent were made and delivered in secret, having been destroyed after the message had been delivered. With any luck, nobody should recognise him by his voice.

Fighting the urge to look at his forehead, Adam instead looked down at his clothes. His black tunic had been replaced with a white one that was broadly similar in design, though it was slightly more padded in preparation for the Atlesian climate, as well as for _other reasons_. He'd ditched his trousers in favour of a matching pair of cargo pants, coupled with boots that added an extra inch or two to his already imposing height.

Looking himself up and down, Adam felt the odd temptation to laugh. This most certainly wasn't his style, but it should be enough to fool all but the most observant of people. A part of him worried that Blake would see through his disguise the moment she saw him, but he dismissed it.

After all, by the time she got close enough to properly get a look at him, she'd already be dead.

* * *

"Aha! Mr. Albuson!" Azulon exclaimed as Adam walked into the operating theatre. The somewhat older man was in his engineering attire, somewhat throwing Adam for a loop, having only seen him in a surgeons gown the past week.

"Do you have my weapons?" Adam asked, preemptively shooting down any attempt by Azulon to engage in small talk. Thankfully, he seemed to get it, turning back to his mini-workshop. Not for the first time, Adam wondered about the safety ramifications of having a workshop in an operating theatre, and almost regretted not bringing it up before letting the man put a saw to his scalp.

"Y-Yeah! Right here!" Azulon said, thankfully interrupting Adam's thought process before he began thinking about his ho-

"Hurry and give it," Adam grumbled, snatching Blush out of Azulon's hands to look at it. His rifle Blush had seen an extensive redesign, not only now having a largely grey colour scheme, but having also been converted into something more akin to a shotgun-lite. While this made it more powerful, it was also slower and harder to use in more fast-paced battles. Adam hoped that the added power and the addition of a hidden blade in the barrel would outweigh the downsides.

Speaking of blades, Adam withdrew the one currently sheathed within Blush. Unlike Blush, which at least had a base to work off of, "Thorn" had needed to be built from the ground up, and thus Adam took the opportunity to branch out with a completely new type of sword. To fit inside the new Blush, Thorn had a larger, longer blade than Wilt, with a crossguard and longer handle to counteract it, making it look more like an unusually small broadsword. The handle itself was similar to Blush in terms of colour, but the actual Blade was cyan: Hard-Light Dust. Apparently, out of all the things he'd requested, this was by far the most expensive and hardest thing to acquire. Adam ran his gaze up and down the blade. He'd used Hard-Light ammo before, but never a full blade. Noticing two discreet buttons on the handle, he figured it couldn't be too hard to use (provided his instructions were followed) and slid Thorn back in, clipping Blush to his side.

"So uh, do you like it?" Azulon asked hesitantly as Adam moved his hips around, getting used to the new weight.

"Yeah, it should be fine," he said, turning and walking towards the door, his business done and his mind already focused on the next stage of his plan. Azulon watched him go, before the urge to speak his mind compelled him to open his mouth.

"You know, for a White Fang terrorist, you're a bit more… amicable towards humans than I thought you'd be."

Adam stopped.

* * *

Closing the door behind him, Adam slid Thorn back into Blush, a satisfied look on his face. It would definitely take some time altering his fighting style, but his new weapons were definitely up to the task ahead. Some small part of him still nostalgically longed for Wilt, but he sated it with the reassurance that he would soon avenge his lost blade.

Walking down the hallway and out the front door, Cain Albuson inhaled the cool, winter air, a welcome contrast to the chemical stench back-alley clinic. Lifting his head high, he stepped out into the City of Argus, into the morning crowd on their way to work, ignoring the anxiety bubbling beneath his skin with each step he took.

_**Emasculation**_


	7. Shattered

Shaking the viscera from Thorn, Adam walked over to the stove, carefully not to step in any blood, and turned the dial all the way up, a now-familiar hiss filling the kitchen, as did the gas.

_Seven. Hopefully that'll keep the military busy._

The smell already starting to make him sick, Adam hurried out the back door into the garden. Glancing up at the sky, he frowned at the dark clouds gathering above him. He wasn't enough of a meteorologist to know how the fires would affect the weather, but he hoped that they'd be able to grow to a decent size. Judging by the sirens in the background and the four towering plumes of smoke, he didn't have too much to worry about. Lifting Blush, he fired a single fire Dust round into the kitchen, cringing as the shock ran up his arm and into his shoulder, nearly dropping the weapon as the kitchen exploded into an inferno.

_Ugh… I'll have to get used to that recoil…_

Ignoring the unpleasant tingles running up his arm, Adam sheathed Thorn, clipped Blush and vanished into the thick shrubbery ahead, headed straight for the base at the tip of the settlement.

"Another one?! How could you let them get away with a seventh you idiots?!" Cordovin screamed, spit flying from her mouth as she stormed out the Atlesian base, flanked by two officers who struggled to keep up with her surprisingly swift pace.

"I'm sorry Miss! We've had our hands full with City Hall and Blumenkranz Tower!" one said, half paying attention to what was being shouted through her earpiece and half what was being shouted by Cordovin. "Most of the residential fires are under control, but the fire department has only just arrived at the latest one. Apparently it's spread to several other houses!"

Grinding her teeth, Cordovin came to a halt and spun around, catching the two off guard.

"RIGHT! Take half the fleet to the firefighters and have them aid with control and evacuation! The other half is to scan the entire city and its surroundings for this rough arsonist! Whoever he is, he'll feel the wrath of Atlas bearing down on him! DISSMISSED!"

"Ma'am!" the officers said, turning and running off, leaving Cordovin to continue screaming orders at everyone else running around. Splitting from each other, the second officer relayed Cordovin's orders to his half of the fleet, who were already beginning to take off. Climbing into one of the few remaining ships just as it was leaving the ground, he nodded to the several other soldiers already present and made his way to the cockpit and the pilot.

"Everything in order?" He yelled, putting on his headphones and strapping himself into the co-pilot's seat.

"Yes sir!" The pilot responded. "Where is it we're headed first?" 

"Start with the last known fire and fan out from there!" He responded as the ship swiftly rose into the air and began heading towards Argus. "With traffic at a standstill, the arsonist has to be moving on foot. He can't have gone far."

"Understood siRK-!"

Confused, the officer turned towards the pilot, his jaw dropping at the site of a large, pulsating cyan blade emerging from the back of the seat, into the pilot's neck and out the other side, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as blood dribbled down his chin. His eyes wide, the officer pulled out his sidearm and leaned over to look behind the seat, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

"Wh-!"

The windows of the airship blew out, sending glass, blood and bone fragments flying through the air as the ship began to tilt dangerously to the right in an uncontrollable descent. Before it would risk crashing into Argus however, the ship pulled up and flew back to a safe height, only to suddenly turn back and head towards the military base.

"Manta 7-8, what's your situation?" came the voice of someone from either the base or another airship. Ignoring them, Adam turned the radio off, peering out through the open window as he steered towards the base itself. Looking down at it, he noticed several people pointing at the ship and running away from the main tower. A sneer creeping its way into his face, Adam increased his speed, his breathing coming to a stop as his body tensed up. Finally, at the last possible moment, he pulled up, but not before launching a missile right into the tower. The ship rattled as the explosion went off behind him, and Adam almost lost his grip on the control stick. After a brief moment of wrestling however, he was able to regain control and, upon pulling the ship down into a straight line, floored the acceleration, leaving Argus behind him and speeding out over the open sea. He had no idea how much damage he'd done to the base; in all honestly, it probably wasn't that much, but hopefully enough that they wouldn't be following him anytime soon. In any case, it would stop them from sending any messages to Atlas, at least for a short while.

Turning autopilot on, Adam got up from his seat, stepped over the pilot's corpse into the cabin, leaning against the wall for support as the adrenaline ran its course. The air rushing into the ship through the open window was causing some turbulence, but it wasn't so extreme as to cause the ship to crash. Still, it was unpleasant, and Adam retreated further into the ship to escape the cold wind, skirting around a few bodies before finally placing himself against one of the back corners.

Letting out a groan as he lowered himself to the ground, Adam could feel the tension partly leaving his body. At the speed he was going, he'd arrive at Atlas in a few hours. He'd have to find some way to ditch the ship and escape into the city, but for now, he could afford himself a few minutes rest. Besides, this could be the last quiet moment he'd have in awhile. And so, amidst the butchered bodies and broken glass, Adam rested.

_**Shattered**_


End file.
